


you shared yours, I'll share mine

by SaraJaye



Category: Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken | Fire Emblem: Blazing Sword
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Holding Hands, Stargazing, callback to the pirate ship chapter, heavy discussion of parental death, sharing memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 12:18:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14811240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaraJaye/pseuds/SaraJaye
Summary: It's the most Hector has ever revealed to her about his parents' sad end, and she's at a loss for what to say.





	you shared yours, I'll share mine

The intensity of recent battles makes them appreciate the calm, clear nights all the more. They’re two days into the final showdown with the Black Fang, they know Lloyd’s waiting and ready to punish them for Linus’s death, but right now, all Lyn wants to think about is the starry night and the one she’s sharing it with.

Hector, for all his impatience and need to constantly be moving about, is surprisingly appreciative of these stars.

“Eliwood and I used to sit outside like this when we were kids,” he says. “Anytime one of us came to visit the other and it was a warm night, our parents would let us sit in the courtyard for an extra hour or two.”

“I was surprised at how pretty the night sky can still look in Lycia,” Lyn murmurs. “I’d been so spoiled by how radiant it looks on the plains.”  


“You’ve gotta be sitting in just the right spot, not too many trees or parapets.” Hector chuckles, taking her hand and lacing their fingers together. “One time I thought they’d look even better _from_ the parapets. Eliwood and I tried to sneak up there, but Oswin caught us, and my mother...”  


“Had a fit?” Lyn giggles, squeezing his hand. “I can imagine!”  


“Pretty much!” He rolls his eyes, smiling. “I think she understood, though. She told us a story about how _she_ tried to climb a tree so she could touch a star and wound up in bed with a broken leg after...”  


He trails off, his grip suddenly tightening and his face growing somber.

“That night was the last time she ever told me a story about her childhood. The next day, she started coughing...two days later, both she and my father...” And Lyn remembers what he told her on Fargus’s ship, his somber tone, the look of guilt in his eyes.

“Hector...”  


“She went first,” he says quietly. “She’d always been a hardy one, but once it set in that was the end. Physicians said it hit her the hardest, _because_ she so rarely got sick...she suffered for months. At the end, she didn’t even look like her anymore.” He turns away, but she sees his shoulders hitch slightly. “I was there with her, at the end. She held my hand, told me I was a good boy and she wished she could see me become a good man...she was so pale, her fingers were so bony, I held them until they went cold and limp and the physician said she was gone.”  


It’s the most detail he’s ever gone into about his parents since he first mentioned them to her. All this time it’s been stories about something funny his father said, or his mother’s active childhood, or the summers Eliwood spent in Ostia. But there was always a layer of sadness behind those stories, one she didn’t dare try to peek at. It’s bared to her now, and she’s at a loss for words.

He turns back to her, and despite all he’s just said he’s not crying. She’s not surprised.

“I guess you don’t need me to look away, right?” He shakes his head.  


“Even if I wanted to, I can’t. Even when I think of that moment, even when I’m alone...boy, something must be wrong with me, huh?” Again, she’s not sure what to say; instead, she leans into him, her head resting on his shoulder, her hand still squeezing his. He relaxes, pulling her to him with a sigh.

When she was a child, her parents told her that sometimes the spirits of those passed on are among the stars, watching over their loved ones. Right now, she believes Hector’s parents are watching them.

_Your son did grow up to be a fine man. A little reckless, very rough, terrible manners, but his heart’s always in the right place._

“Thanks,” he murmurs after a long silence. She smiles, blinking back tears.  


“Thank _you_.”  



End file.
